§Nevermore.Hautbois§
Acinonyx Number:
One.
Offering:
Poem One:
Ah, the fire.
Sweet and warm,
Enticing,
And life-saving.
So openn,
So inviting,
Seemingly harmless,
Contained by stones.
Quite inviting!
Ah, very inticing.
Who wants not
To feel its warmth?
But to get too close,
To throw caution
To the wind.
To touch the fire.
'Tis a mistake,
Almost a sin.
And you are sure
To be punished within.
A burn,
The fire's mark,
Scarring the tender
Pink flesh.
Oh, virgin skin,
Marred and red,
Bright with pain.
Scars marked, never to be erased.
Forget,
You may try,
But your efforts will
Prove in vain.
For once burned
By the firee,
You may not forget
The scars it left.
You may crave the heat,
Need and love the
Warmth,
But always will you fear the fire.
Poem Two:
Light.
Dancing, flickering, growing.
Sparks shooting,
Smoke billowing.
Gentle waves of sweet gold.
A ballerina,
Spinning oh so gracefully.
On light toes
With warm uniform.
Perfection as it turns,
Jumps and leaps.
Flicking its tongue at anyone
Who comes near.
Light woes growing dark.
A menicing smile upon its face.
Hotter and hotter
Feeling hell burn in its
Beating heart.
Vicious now,
Contained not by its stage.
Ripping, roaring.
Daring.
A girl with a heavy face comes close,
Putting her hand to its power.
Crackling, snapping, threatening.
The dancer roars and whips,
Hitting the girl with all its might.
Heat so strong,
So close.
Melting.
Dripping.
Pooling.
Scarred forever red
Once pink skin shrivels,
But the girl moves not.
Pale virgin flesh liquidizing,
Bowing under the dancer,
Submissive,
In eager defeat.
She says not a word
As the firey beast strips her
Of her wounds,
Of her pain,
Of her life.
Gripping, catching!
It grabs her,
Holding on with all its might.
Pulling her in,
Snickering as she does not protest.
It has its way with her,
Taking its tongue and licking up and down,
Running over her body.
When it has taken her all she falls,
Not begging for any
Mercy.
Slowly it crawls onto her,
Stealthy and dance-like,
Hungry.
She stares it down, no expression
Upon her face,
The light in her eyes
Fading.
Another pop and the dancer springs,
Consuming her,
Leaving nothing behind.
Nothing but a
Crooked smile.
